


Valentine’s Day

by kayyleix



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, ineffable husbands, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayyleix/pseuds/kayyleix
Summary: Crowley was miserable about Valentine’s day, but perhaps Aziraphale can convince him it’s not so bad after all.





	Valentine’s Day

**Author's Note:**

> Binged this show in a day and I have to say I love these Ineffable Husbands!

It wasn’t unusual for Crowley to enter the bookshop, in fact he did it more frequently than ever now that they had successfully averted armageddon. It also wasn’t unusual for Crowley to enter with a scowl, but that didn’t stop Aziraphale’s eyebrows from furrowing as he made his way over. 

“What is it?” Aziraphale asked.

“The humans are enjoying another sickeningly joyous festival-“ Crowley started.

This was only to have his eye caught by something stuck in the shop window. Crowley huffed and tore it off the door, holding the pink heart like it had offended him. 

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, Aziraphale, not you too!”

It was Valentine’s day, and Aziraphale felt it appropriate to celebrate it along with the rest of humanity, considering that he’d be down on Earth with them for the foreseeable future. It didn’t hurt that the holiday was really sweet one, and gave him the chance to hang up hearts around the bookshop. He decided to voice as much. 

“I think Valentine’s day is a splendid holiday. Celebrated after one of our own you know- well not one of our own, one of my own,” 

Crowley huffed. 

“Yes, Saint Valentine. You ever meet the bugger?” 

Aziraphale paused and thought for a moment. 

“No, I don’t believe I have. Must’ve been an upstanding chap for God to deem him a saint,” 

“Yes, I suppose so. Just weird how he needed to die for the title. He could’ve used some of God’s favour while he was out helping the persecuted,”

Aziraphale had been hardwired to believe that the Ineffable Plan was not to be questioned. But the more time he spent with Crowley, the more that he saw that questioning may be necessary. He hasn’t quite gotten around to saying it aloud though. He would really hate to lose favour with the Lord. Where he would have objected to Crowley however, he simply stayed quiet, going to take the heart from Crowley’s hand to hang it back up. 

When he took the paper heart from his hands, they ever so slightly brushed, and Aziraphale gasped softly, to himself. He could feel that patch of skin tingle even as he firmly hung the heart in it’s original position, and found a seat on the couch next to Crowley. 

“Lighten up, Crowley...”he said, in response to the grimacing demon opposite him.

“...I happen to think that romantic love is beautiful,” he continued, and this caught the demon’s attention.

“What do you know about romantic love?” Crowley questioned, an amused look on his face.

Aziraphale looked down at his hands, intertwined a little embarrassed. He indulged in all things human: food, dance, the odd joke. It would come as no surprise that he also made it a mission to find out about romantic love. As an angel, he was of course made to love and made from love, but this was an entirely different type and it enticed him. 

“I’ve read about love, and seen it in the humans,” he started, defensively. 

Crowley raised an eyebrow behind his impenetrable glasses, unconvinced. 

“I’ve also felt it, I believe,” Aziraphale finished, his voice smaller than Crowley had ever heard it. 

“Felt it?! How on Earth do you know you’ve felt romantic love?” Crowley retorted.

Aziraphale rose from his seat, definitively. 

“You-you know when you’re in love because the person makes you nervous, like there’s some unsettlement in your stomach-“

“Sounds like it’s just gas to me,” Crowley interrupted.

“It’s not! Because it’s good feeling and when they’re near it’s like-I’ve heard some publications refer to it like butterflies in one’s stomach-“

“Oh so torture! I’ve never heard about shoving butterflies down someone’s throat before but it could-“

“No!” Aziraphale objected, rolling his eyes at the demon sat in front of him. 

“Love is a good thing. And you also can’t stop thinking about the person. It’s like they’re in everything you do. First thought in the morning. Last at night,” 

Aziraphale had an almost dreamy look in his eye, a smile plastered on his face. At the scene, Crowley felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn’t resist it.

“Love empowers you. The humans certainly seem happy, walking hand in hand and gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s bliss,”

“And you’ve felt all this for someone, then?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale was hesitant, but then nodded, firm.

“Yes, yes I believe I have,”

“Who, then?”

Crowley felt uneasy. His stomach was twisting in knots, and he only knew this because down in hell someone’s stomach was actually twisted in knots and his agony was comparable to Crowley’s in this moment. He felt uneasy because a lot of what Aziraphale just described applied to him. When he awoke this morning, Crowley’s first thought was that he’d take the Bentley to Aziraphale’s bookshop. When he entered the bookshop and saw Aziraphale fussing with some books on the far shelf, he felt said ‘butterflies’ at the fact that maybe Aziraphale didn’t have time for him, to chat and laugh. And Crowley so desperately wanted to hear the sound of his voice. 

But he was never one to slap the label ‘love’ on it. He was, after all, a demon. He was supposed to stand for the opposite of everything Aziraphale stood for. Yet, Aziraphale began to accept what Crowley knew for 6000 years. That they were on their own side. So more times than he would like to admit, Crowley wondered what Aziraphale would feel like in his arms, in his bed, under him. These extremely intimate thoughts were buried deep in Crowley’s mind, and were about to be tainted. Just as Crowley came to terms with the fact he may love Aziraphale, he was just about to tell Crowley that he was in love with someone else. 

Aziraphale sank back into the couch and twisted his body to face Crowley, their knees brushing against each other. Aziraphale’s eyes slowly rose to meet the shielded ones of Crowley, and he nibbled on his lip as he prepared to give his answer. 

“Well-um-it’s... you,”

Crowley didn’t move a muscle, for fear it was a fabrication. For fear that Aziraphale didn’t mean what he had just said. 

“I love you, Crowley,”

Again. Firmer this time. Well, as firm as you can get with a slight tremor in your voice. 

Aziraphale scanned Crowley’s face for just about anything, but found him unreadable. He put it down to his damned glasses and slowly, he reached out to take them off. When Crowley didn’t make any move to stop him, Aziraphale removed his glasses and marvelled at the demon’s eyes, a ridiculously enticing yellow. Crowley’s eyes were the softest he’d ever seen them, and Aziraphale thought that he might just melt.

Crowley made the first move. His hand slithering up the side of Aziraphale’s face almost tantalisingly and cupped his cheek. He, then, moved toward him, and slowly but surely pressed his lips against his. Crowley had imagined what this had felt like for eons, and they all fell short of the real thing. Their lips moved as one in what can only be described as a euphoric moment of intimacy. 

Crowley was the one to break apart too, panting, although he hardly needed air. The small whimper of protest Aziraphale let out made him groan, as he rested his forehead on the angel’s. 

“Would this be a sin?” He asked, and it was his turn for his voice to sound small.

Aziraphale’s response was the most sure he had sounded about God’s plan yet.

“The way I feel about you could never be deemed a sin,” he smiled.

“The things I want to do to you most definitely are,” Crowley replied, a simply devilish smirk on his face. 

At that they both snickered, just breathing in the other’s scent and enjoying the moment. 

“Come back to mine, angel, and let me show you that I-that I love you too,”

Crowley rose from his seat and offered an outstretched hand, which Aziraphale happily took. He locked up the bookshop early, never being more excited to flip the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

It was a splendid Valentine’s day after all.


End file.
